


strawberries and cream

by blueluke



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Drunkenness, How Do I Tag, M/M, Non AU, Protective Ashton, clubs, luke in makeup, malum kinda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 21:18:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14962341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueluke/pseuds/blueluke
Summary: “You look nice,” Ashton remarks with a smile. Luke grins at this, preening and flicking his hair. Ashton means it. Luke looks really pretty.





	strawberries and cream

Ashton is straight. He goes down to the nightclub at the bottom of the hill every Friday night, and sometimes Saturdays if he's not too hungover. He’ll find a girl in the space of ten minutes who looks able to hold a good time and before the end of the night he’ll have had a good fuck and the impending signs of a headache. Sometimes, if he’s drunk enough, he’ll get up on the stage at the corner and sing slurred renditions of 80s songs he wasn’t alive to witness.

Sometimes Ashton ends up doing both. 

He’ll get back home to his flat at around two in the morning, face flushed and hair windswept, shirt unbuttoned way lower than is deemed acceptable. Luke, his roommate and best friend, will normally amble out of his room, sleepy eyed, tousled curls and pink lips. He’ll take Ashton back to his bedroom and watch him flop on the bed, exhausted and drunk out of his mind. It nearly always went like that. Routine.

 

It’s Friday morning. Ashton and Luke are sat at the breakfast bar in their huge flat, mosquitos whining against the window outside and the AC humming lowly at the side of the lounge. Ashton’s already dressed - a loose striped button up, black jeans, his leather jacket which he wears too much. Luke’s still in an oversized hoodie he clearly wore the day before and slept in. He looks exhausted, eating toast, hunched over the table like an old man.

“Lu, we have to leave in twenty,” Ashton says, cutting up mango like his life depends on it. “And you take years to get ready.”

Luke grins sleepily from under the hood of his sweater. “Can’t be fucking arsed.” 

“Profanity,” Ashton warns jokily.

“Sorry, dad,” Luke murmurs with a small smile, nudging Ashton’s huge bicep on the way to his room to get changed.

“You just gonna leave your stuff here for me to wash up?” The older man groans, making sure to clank the plates loudly as he washes them.

Luke doesn't take as long as Ashton thinks to get ready, appearing from his room in an orange silk shirt and black ripped jeans. His hair’s curly as ever, and lipgloss shines on his lips.

“You look nice,” Ashton remarks with a smile. Luke grins at this, preening and flicking his hair. Ashton means it. Luke looks really pretty.

“You do too, Ashtonio,” Luke replies, eyeing the strand of dark golden hair falling in Ashton’s eyes. 

 

They’re hustled into the back of a huge Range Rover, where Michael and Calum are sitting, bored out of their minds. 

“Sorry we took ages,” Ashton apologises, patting their knees as he squeezes next to them. 

They do the three or four interviews, and it’s dull. Same questions, same interviewers who try to be interested in their album but aren’t, and only care when they’re asked about who they’re dating.

“So, which of you guys are single, and who isn’t?” The interviewer asks.  
They all look at each other like they normally do, quickly deciding who takes the question. It’s usually Ashton.

“Well, I’m in a relationship right now,” Michael says. “But Cal and Ash are single. And obviously Luke, you’re single too, right?”

“Um, I’m working on something,” Luke replies, cheeks going pink. They all go silent.

“Um, what?” Calum says, laughing. “Luke? In a relationship?”

“I did not know-” Michael trails off. Ashton’s silent because he can’t believe it. Luke has girls and boys falling at his feet every day, hasn’t been in a long term relationship for years, and now he wants one back?

Luke’s still pink in the face, picking at his chipped red nail polish. His curls fall over his eyes and Ashton know’s he's embarrassed for speaking up. He knows Luke too well.

“Oh really?” The interviewer says. “Who’s the lucky lady?”

Luke’s cheeks look positively burning, embarrassed out of his mind. Ashton wants to take over the question like he does whenever it’s made awkward, expertly steer the conversation on for Luke to make it easier for him, but he wants to know who. 

“She’s nice, yeah,” Luke mutters, awkwardly grinning at Michael who’s still got an eyebrow quirked and a twitched lip at his news.

“What’s her name?” Ashton pipes up, leaning forward. Luke gives Ashton a look that says ‘stop making this worse’.

“She’s-” Luke starts quietly, but Calum cuts in. 

“Don’t force him,” he jokes, throwing a tattooed arm over Luke’s hunched shoulder. 

The conversation is steered on by Michael, who starts talking about glitter and eyeshadow, but Ashton can’t get the thought of this person out of his head, and he wants to know who.

Ashton’s thinking of it when he watches his long legged best friend walk out of the interview room with Calum, who’s grilling him about his love life, but in the way that doesn’t make him uncomfortable or pressured. Ashton and Michael have hung back, holding polite conversation with the cameramen about drumming and guitar. Ashton’s itching to leave so he can badger Luke with questions.

When they’re finally finished talking, they walk out to join the others in the Range Rover. Luke’s sitting at the back by himself, pulling at skin on his lip anxiously. Ashton eyes him confusedly but sits at the front with the others nevertheless. He decides not to question Luke. 

They go for a boat trip by the river, queueing VIP so they don’t get ran into by any fans. They sit at the front of the boat in a line and Ashton makes sure he’s sat next to Luke, who’s on the end, head turning slightly to watch the London skies. He looks moody and his curls are blowing, just touching Ashton’s cheek. He can almost smell his best friend’s strawberries and cream shampoo and body wash. It’s probably weird that he knows what the brand is.

Michael and Calum spend the whole time talking about something they saw on Twitter that morning, getting into an excited conversation, but Ashton just watches Luke watch the view from the boat.

Even when Luke’s acting distant he’s still the epitome of sunshine. 

It’s near the end when the boat starts to speed up, and Luke turns to Ashton, grinning like crazy. “We’re going so fast, holy shit,” Luke’s saying, gripping onto Ashton’s thigh, nails digging into his jeans. “Are we gonna die?”

“Maybe,” Ashton’s saying back, a twinkle in his eye. “But you’re too pretty to die.”

“I know,” Luke replies, but a pleased pink settles on his cheeks nevertheless. “God won’t kill me off yet. He has plans for me.”

“Don’t think it works like that, but okay.” Ashton’s grinning and looking to the other side where Michael and Calum are hunched over one of their phones, crying with laughter. This is when Ashton knows that everything is okay.

 

They all have dinner at TGI’s on the way back, ordering a share platter of chicken nuggets, chips, curly fries. Ashton’s still wondering about Luke’s mysterious girl and it’s making an uneasy feeling settle in the pit of his stomach. He watches him laugh with Michael and wonders if she’ll make him laugh like that. He hopes so but the horrible part of him hopes she doesn’t, so Ashton has a reason to hate her. He really wants to hate her.

Michael and Calum are dropped off at their houses first, as they live practically one street away from each other. Ashton chuckles as he watches them link arms and skip off down the road like they're in The Wizard Of Oz. He hears Luke laughing too, leaning over Ashton to video them out of the window. Luke’s strawberry and cream scent is right by his nose, mixing with the bitter scent of beer from the restaurant. 

When they pull up outside Luke and his flat, Ashton knows the small amount of beer has already gotten to Luke, watching him giggle as he tries to climb out of the car. Lightweight, he scoffs to himself.

“Tipsy already?” Ashton says as they both walk down the road together. “You suck at drinking.”

“I know,” Luke’s saying, but he’s distracted by one of the neighbours’ cats, who’s sitting on the wall outside a flat.

Ashton rolls his eyes and grabs the keys out of his back pocket and lets himself into the flat, leaving it open for his distracted best friend. Ashton’s already’s planning his night out, getting the tub of hair gel out to smooth his hair back up, but Luke’s almost yelling.

“No!” He says, darting forward to snatch the tub. He glares at Ashton, pouting. “You have to keep it curly and wild.”

“Only if you tell me about your mystery girl,” Ashton retorts, just as fast, all the events of the day flooding back to him. Suddenly, it’s all Ashton cares about.

“She’s nice, I guess,” Luke says after a long pause, sitting on the sofa and smiling up at Ashton. 

“Show me a picture.”

Luke unlocks his phone and shows Ashton the picture, which is Luke and a petite girl with dark hair. They’re both laughing their heads off at something and it’s so candid it makes Ashton feel queasy.

“I’m going to go get ready,” Ashton’s saying before he can stare at the picture anymore. 

“Make sure you keep your curls,” Luke singsongs from the kitchen as he walks away. 

 

It’s an hour later when Ashton’s back in his leather jacket, huge brown boots on his huge feet and rings on every long finger. His curls are loose and they hang just into his eyes. He can’t decide if he likes the way it looks, but Luke said so and he’s usually right. Usually.

He’s surprised when he walks into the lounge and Luke’s dressed up, curls perfectly tamed and golden eyeshadow framing his blue eyes. He’s definitely wearing some kind of lip product that Ashton’s not familiar with, but they look shiny.

Luke’s wearing Ashton’s red jacket, the one that they took to Sweden and hid under the rain with. It looks good on him, he’s not gonna lie. 

“Looking in my wardrobe, huh?” Ashton smiles. “Why are you going out?”

“I’m coming with you, aren’t I?” Luke says, standing up and slinging his arm around Ashton’s shoulder. This is when Ashton notices the pants Luke’s wearing. They’re slim fit striped pants that can only be described as ‘bum defining’. He’s never seen them on Luke. He’s also never noticed the ass on Luke.

“You’re - coming with me?” Ashton says, eyes drifting back up towards Luke’s face.

“Yup,” comes the reply. “Got nothing better to do.”

 

The club’s loud and familiar and Ashton feels right at home, striding over to the bar to buy shots. This is usually the point where a girl has wandered over and they end up doing a few shots together. Luke’s following behind him, looking around at the flashing lights and bodies moving.

“Do shots with me,” Ashton says over the music, watching the glitter of Luke’s eyeshadow dance under the strobing lights. 

“Um-” Luke’s replying, but Ashton won’t let him decline. 

“You’ll like it, Lu.”

Three minutes later they’re on their third, becoming used to the bitterness sticking to the inside of their mouths. Luke’s reeling in his chair, eyes blown glassy already. Ashton laughs when he thinks of how much of a lightweight the younger boy is.

“No more for you, I think,” Ashton decides, but downs another for himself. Luke doesn’t argue, just giggles at the less than appropriate dancers wiggling their asses up and down poles.

Ashton’s watched about seven girls eye up Luke. And about seven guys. Luke’s oblivious though, stumbling into the crowd to dance to some heavy beat shit that feels nice underfoot when the floor shakes.

“Come over and dance, Ash,” Luke’s shouting, bouncing up and down in time with the crowd. His curls are flying and becoming untamed. Cute, Ashton thinks.

“This music sucks, Lu,” Ashton’s groaning, but then Luke’s running over and pulling him towards the dance floor. 

“Please.”

And how could Ashton resist that?

They’re under a blue and pink light, and it casts the perfect light and shadows over Luke’s face and he just wants to snap a picture. Sometimes, he gets so absorbed by somebody that the only thing he wants to do is take a picture of them so he can admire their beauty forever.

They dance for ages, merging into the crowd so they’re right in the middle, floor pumping, heart pumping. The pulse of the song is strong, and Luke’s hands are cool against his as he raises both of their hands in excitement. There’s so many people and they’re suddenly so close, jumping around against the beat, jostled by people with beers, people who also want a good time.

Luke’s hair is in his face now, flyaway stuck against his lipgloss and Ashton isn't thinking in his head when he brushes the hair from his lips. Luke fucking giggles, grabbing onto Ashton’s wrist.

“You look so goddamn pretty tonight, Lu, honestly,” Ashton slurs close to his ear, hand on the back of the younger boy’s neck. “Love you in my clothes.”

They dance closer until Luke’s winding his arms around Ashton’s neck and leaning up against his chest. “You look nice too,” Luke breathes, small hands cold around Ashton’s neck. His breath stutters, and his hand magnetises to Luke’s hip, the material riding up so he can see his smooth milky skin and soft love handles.

His fingers stroke against the skin as they dance and Ashton knows it’s not platonic. He knows this isn't normal. The beat of the song and Luke’s fast pulse against his chest are like a damned drug. 

He hasn’t had a night out with Luke like this before. Ashton pulls him closer, so they’re flush up against each other. He can smell strawberries and cream again, Luke’s body cream that he slathers over himself every morning. It smells nice, and Ashton leans forward, nosing against Luke’s shoulder so he can smell it more closely.

Then the song’s over and they’re playing something heavier. They’re swaying together, drunk out of their minds and Ashton can’t think of anything other than the long legged curly haired boy who’s clinging to him and humming out of tune to the song. Luke’s warm against him, hair tickling the side of his face. It’s loud and wild in the club and Ashton makes a decision.

Luke’s neck and shoulder is smooth and untouched and milky and Ashton just has to lean down and attach his lips to the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. Luke lets out a sound that sounds so close to a moan Ashton sees white. Ashton’s hands are on his back, sliding down and down until it cups around Luke’s round arse under striped pants that are so stripy they give Ashton migraines. He squeezes and it’s so fucking amazing how good Luke’s arse feels in his hands.

“God, Lu, babe, you’re so fucking pretty like this,” Ashton murmurs lowly against Luke’s skin. “Do you think your little mystery girl could make you feel like this?” His voice is throaty and deep and laced with venom. He feels Luke’s breathing hitch as he shakes his head in response.

“I won’t let her have you,” Ashton’s saying and convinces himself it’s the alcohol talking. He grabs Luke’s jaw and presses their lips together in a rough bruising kiss. The lipgloss’s worn off slightly but Luke’s lips are still slightly sticky and it’s so damn hot. Luke’s tongue is pressing against the seal of their lips and he opens, gladly, one hand still squeezing at Luke’s arse as they make out messily against the strobing lights.

“Ash, please,” Luke says all high pitched and whiny when they pull apart. “Ash, god, I’m so, I’m so hard.”

“Hard for me,” Ashton says, voice gravelly. Ashton runs his thumb against Luke’s plump sticky lips before reaching down to press his hand against the bulge in Luke’s stripy trousers.

“Got me hard too,” He says right close to Luke’s ear before they’re moving and Ashton’s dragging him out of the crowd towards the toilets. 

They’re barely in the door before the drummer’s got Luke up against the sinks, capturing his lips roughly again, the corner of his mouth, his jaw and his shoulder. Luke whines in the prettiest way.

“Ashton, please.” And the way it looks, holy shit, coming out of Luke’s lips as he’s pressed up against him.

Ashton holds two long fingers up to Luke’s lips. “Suck.”

Luke does as he’s told, sucking earnestly on Ashton’s fingers until they’re gone again and Luke knows what’s happening. Holy shit he wants this.

“You want this?” Ashton’s saying, words running into each other now. Luke nods. 

“Please, Ash.”

He lets Ashton fuck him with his fingers and he moans and cries and shakes against the older man’s every touch. He almost sobs from the relief of being touched how he likes it. Not getting himself off late at night with nobody to help him.

“So fucking, so fucking tight around me, baby, God,” Ashton’s babbling throatily.

“So good, Ashton, more, more, please,” he sobs. “I want to come, please Ashton.”

Luke gets close fast, orgasm bubbling all over his body and he’s crying, whimpering. He’s so sensitive as Ashton’s fingers curl up to just the right spot, and he reaches his orgasm. Ashton holds him against the sink as he comes down, pressing their lips together again. It’s 4am. Ashton is not straight.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading :)


End file.
